


Michael in the Bathroom

by Reading_Is_Smexy



Category: Be More Chill
Genre: Self Harm, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reading_Is_Smexy/pseuds/Reading_Is_Smexy
Summary: What was keeping Michael from breaking his promise to stay alive? Jeremy wasn't there. So no one was there





	Michael in the Bathroom

"Get out of my way. Loser."

_Loser_

_Loser_

_Loser_

The word replayed in Michael’s head. Each time, it grew harder and harder to keep the inevitable panic attack at bay. His breath was shallow and choked from trying not to sob. Burning tears pricked at his eyes.

Logically, he knew that it was the SQUIP that said something so terrible. But when the voice was Jeremy’s, the same voice of twelve years, something broke in Michael. He slid down the wall he was leaning against and bit his fist to keep it in. Desperately, Michael wished for Jeremy to come through the door and help him through the attack. But Jeremy would not come this time.  
Jeremy would not hold Michael tightly in his lap. Jeremy would not whisper into his hair. Jeremy would not be there.  
The thoughts released the outburst that Michael had been holding back. But what did it matter? No one knew Michael. Not really. He was simply Jeremy’s friend, the stoner, drives a PT Cruise, the loser…  
More sobs clawed their way up his throat and he began to think things he hadn’t thought for a few years.  
_Wish I’d offed myself instead. Wish I was never born._  
The moment he finished his thought, he was greeted with a calm feeling. Well, not calm. Emptiness. There was no reason for him to stick around, but he couldn’t find it in himself to really care. Jeremy was his Player 1, and he had passed the level without Player 2. Maybe Player 2 had reached game over.

_**Knock, knock, knock, knock** _

“They’re going to start to shout soon”

**_Knock, knock, knock, knock_ **

“Oh, hell- yeah I’ll be out soon”  
Michael shakily got to his feet.

**_Knock, knock, knock, knock_ **

“It sucks you left me here alone”  
He stumbled to the mirror.

**_Knock, knock, knock, knock_ **

“Here in this teenage battle zone”  
He glared at the reflection staring back.

**_Clang, clang, clang, clang_ **

“I feel the pressure blowing up”  
Without a second though, he punched the mirror and it shattered.  
He felt the blood warmly slide down his hand, but he didn’t care.

**_Bang, bang, bang, bang_ **

“My big mistake was showing up”  
He glanced at his face in a small, unbroken section of the mirror”

**_Splash, splash, splash, splash_ **

He splashed his face with water to help hide his tear stained cheeks.  
“I am in a better place.”  
Michael went to open the door for whoever needed in, but the noise outside the door had stopped.  
Now that the banging was gone, Michael realized how badly his hand hurt.  
Glancing down, he saw pieces of glass sticking out of the spaces between his knuckles. The blood was still a steady stream down his hand and arm.  
“Shit…” Michael sat down in the tub and began to pull out the pieces. He hissed every time his cuts were bothered.  
As he finished, he started to think more about Jeremy. He had punched a mirror one time. Michael had helped him bandage up his hand… Jeremy wasn't here to do the same.  
The tears pricked at his eyes once more and Michael didn't fight them this time.  
He began to think how he would move forward without his player 1. He remembered what he had though earlier. Maybe Player 2 was at game over.  
He reached over the side of the tub and grabbed the largest shard of glass. He held onto it with all he had, and he barely registered the stinging pain of his palm being cut open.  
_You know how to feel better_  
A voice Michael hadn't heard in a long time whispered harshly in his mind. He had promised Jeremy. The first time Jeremy found out about his… habit. Jeremy had been there for him every time he felt the urge since that night. But now Michael was alone.  
_Jeremy doesn't care about you anymore, much less some stupid promise you made years ago. Go on. You deserve this._  
Jeremy had thrown away 12 years of friendship. So what kept Michael from throwing away three years of progress?  
He brought the glass to his arm and drug it across. He watched as the blood beaded unevenly and began to feel alive for the first time since he had shut himself in the bathroom. He repeated the action 4 more times, each one deeper than the last. By the last one, the blood didn't bead, but streamed out steadily. He dropped the shard of glass and leaned backwards into the tub. With his vision blurring slightly, he faintly heard a scream outside. Some drunk girl most likely. He was going to ignore it, but the screams grew in number and desperation. Maybe he should find out why. He started to climb out of the tub, but as he began to stand, he lost his balance and fell. He was too weak to stand. Michael slowly started to lose consciousness.  
As he slipped into the darkness, Michael didn’t hear someone bang on the door.  
He didn't hear Jeremy scream for him to unlock the door.  
He didn't hear when Jeremy smashed open the door.

He didn't feel the heat pulse through the open doorway.  
He didn't hear Jeremy drop to his knees next to Michael.  
He didn't feel Jeremy pick him up despite his size.  
He didn't feel Jeremy carry him outside or Jeremy checking to see if he was okay.

And Jeremy didn't feel a pulse.

 

 

 


End file.
